V
by circinusphoenix
Summary: HPV for Vendetta Crossover. Living in a police state, Hermione lives on in the reign of Voldemort. With Harry & Ron dead, she vows to continue living. Unable to fight back, her world is turned upside down when a masked stranger emerges from shadows.
1. The Curfew

**V**

**by circinusphoenix  
**

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**Summary: **Living in a police state, Hermione Granger tries to survive in the reign of Voldemort. The Muggle government is under his control, and the wizarding world lives in constant fear. People go missing every day, and after the loss of her friends Ron and Harry to the Dark Lord, Hermione vowed to keep living. Unable to fight back against the corrupt government, her world and England are turned upside down when a masked stranger comes from the shadows, and vows revenge on Lord Voldemort. 

Crossover HP/V for Vendetta**  
**

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**A/N - This story is a crossover of Harry Potter and V for Vendetta, however I am basing this crossover on the movie, not the animated novel.**

**I do hope you enjoy it, and please review.**

_Remember, remember the fifth of November  
The gunpowder, treason and plot.  
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason  
Should ever be forgot . . ._

_- CHAPTER ONE -_

**The Curfew**

She left the office at five in the evening. Everyone had to leave the office at five. The nightly curfew took effect at seven, so time was needed to get home. It was part of living in Britain during these times. No one wanted to be caught outside after curfew, as those who did tended to never come back.

She pulled her hair back into a quickly made bun, and began walking down the stairs towards her car. She always thought this time, and the start of day at the office, looked like those pictures she saw in the history books of slaves going to work in a factory. Everyone moved at the same pace, talking to each other a little, but not a lot. They would all be moving down the right side of the dull grey stairwell, and when they reached their respective car park, they would break off, and find their car in their designated spot.

As she reached her tiny blue car in the dimly lit car park, she took her keys out of her purse, and paused as she went to unlock the door, her hand hovering just in front of the lock.

_This is how I used to hold my wand_ she thought to herself, hesitating on the brink of opening her car door. She stared at her hand as her memories began to filter up, and those painful days started to materialize in her mind.

'See you tomorrow 'Mione!' someone called. She shook her head and turned to see her friend Alison smiling at her from her car.

'Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow Aly' Hermione replied tiredly. Alison hesitated for a moment, waved, and drove off home for the night. She lived outside London near Woolwich, so she always left right away to make sure she got home before curfew. She heard stories of the Markers patrolling the roads, and arresting people found on them after seven.

Hermione turned back to her car, opened the door, and sat down behind the wheel. She honestly hated the name "'Mione." She loved her full name, but after the fall of the government she knew it would be a problem. Her name was unique, which of course was something that added to her liking it, but it also made her easy to find. When the Muggle government was reformed, she changed her identification cards to read "Mary Granger," however she always told her friends to call her 'Mione. It was not the real thing, but it beat getting called a totally different name.

Putting the key into the starter, she turned it over, and her small car began rumbling quietly. She was still a bit new to driving, but over the past two years she became used to some things. The signals, or "flickers" as she called them, were really the only part she was still getting used to.

She gave a sigh, slowly backed out of her parking spot labeled P3-211, and began her way out at a comfortable pace. It was always a hassle exiting the office, because of all the security checks. They had to be done of course, "for the safety of the country," but she could always tell they were looking for other things. A weapon or explosive device would make them upset, but a wand . . . oh, if they found a wand they would take you away forever.

Hermione found this out quite early, and had no choice but to hide her wand, and all her magical devices as quickly as possible. She remembered the day Seamus and a few other wizards and witches were trying to get out of Scotland after Hogwarts fell. Markers inspected everyone for magical objects, and Hermione was lucky to get past with a group of Muggles fleeing the fires that raged across the highlands. She shrunk all her items to fit in her shoes, and the Markers were too busy to check there.

Seamus, along with several other ex-Hogwarts students however were not as lucky. They found his family's shamrock pendant around his neck, which turned different colours for different people. He showed it to Hermione a few days early, and smiled as it was green for him, and turned ruby red for her. It turned black with the Marker that checked it, and he immediately called for assistance. Seamus and the others were taken away at wand-point, and Hermione could only cry as they took hold of a portkey, and vanished never to be seen again.

It pained Hermione even thinking of those dark times. Seamus had helped her in a way she could not describe. After Ron's death, and Harry soon after, Seamus helped Hermione get out of Hogwarts before it crumbled to the ground, and told her they had to get out of Scotland. He saved her life, at least a dozen times, and she never had the chance to say thank you.

Moving forward to the guard station, Hermione wiped her eye of the excess water. If they met her with tears in her eyes, they would bring her to an interrogation chamber no doubt. Dealings with the guards or Markers always had to be done without problems of any kind, except for the one guard she knew here at the car park.

'I.D.' the old guard asked as her tiny car pulled up to the guard post at one of the exits from the car park. The guard, a wispy grey haired man with a fairly round midsection, had a wonderfully kind smile, as well as an equally stern frown. He was checking one of the dozen or so camera monitors in the post, when he turned to take Hermione's I.D., and his face lit up.

'Oi 'Mione! How was the day?' he asked kindly. Hermione loved Gary, and always tried to take the second exit from the car park, so she could see him. She met him on her first day at the office, and he kindly informed her that she was the cutest girl he'd ever seen go through his station. He always joked about taking Hermione on a date, but she sadly had to remind him he was married, and had been for thirty-two years.

'It was alright Gary, how were things out here?'

'Oh you know, the usual. Had to run down a few hooligans, found some illegals here and there, you know' he joked, passing her I.D. through the scanner.

'That's why they have a strapping man like yourself working here, and us pretty ladies indoors' Hermione charmed. Her face appeared on the monitor with her information, and she frowned at the screen. She hated the picture they took of her. Garry nodded at the screen with a smile, and turned towards her again.

'Yeah, well I'd rather be in there with all you pretty ladies. Well' he said, turning back to the screen, 'you're not a terrorist, as usual. Girls like you couldn't be terrorists anyways; too good lookin' for that line 'o work' he chuckled, giving Hermione back her card.

'Yes, well I'll be sure to warn you when I step up to that line of work. See you tomorrow!' Hermione said as she started off.

'Don't forget you owe me a beer!' he yelled as she pulled away.

'I know, I know!' she replied, beaming at the old man. He waved, and Hermione turned her car onto the street towards her apartment.

Since she moved to London, she always kept to laying low. She worked at the government's publishing office in the downtown of London. All published articles, books, magazines; everything had to be checked by the government before being published to the public. Her job, which she shared with hundreds of other people, was the rather remedial one of cataloging the submissions.

Hermione did not mind it that much. Even though it was a tedious job, it allowed her a good income and no one asked her questions. It was nothing like her dream job, but that was a far cry away from happening now since it required her using magic.

Driving through the city towards the suburb, she sighed as she looked at the government ads placed everywhere. All in black with white writing, preaching togetherness for the greater good, and independence from the world.

Hermione at first did not understand why the Muggle government was reformed. Voldemort was always about destruction and ruling, yet he put in place a government that continued to hide the wizarding world from the general public. She figured out soon enough what Voldemort did though.

Once all of Britain was his, he came to realize that there were pluses to keeping the wizarding world hidden, and establishing a government. It allowed him to control both worlds, and mold the Muggle public to work for him without them knowing. He instituted his own Ministry, and it was in charge of finding new wizards, and training them. They would all become Markers, and those who defied him would be put in their place.

It gave Hermione goose bumps thinking about it all. Not even five years ago she would have been at Hogwarts, and the world would be how it was meant to be; no curfew, no terror, and no censors. She always wished she could do something to change it all back, but it seemed impossible to her. What could one lonely office clerk do?

Pulling up to her small apartment building in North London, she parked her car along the side of the street, and turned off the engine. It was a fairly dreary day, with overcast clouds covering the entire sky. Everything appeared to echo the dismal feeling of the world, looking grey and tired.

The buildings in her neighborhood were nicer than the government build flats in West London. She lived in an older part of the city that did not change in the reformation. Add space was very limited, so when she walked along the street or stared out her front window, she could forget the reformation and imagine it was like it was.

Getting out of her car, she picked up her purse, and entered her building. It was stone three storey building built in the 1950's after World War Two. Hermione liked it because they built it like the other buildings around it, which were all much older. She loved old buildings. It always felt like she was basking in history when she would be in those types of buildings, feeling like she was actually living in the time it reflected. Hogwarts did that for her too, though she would never experience that again.

Opening up her apartment door on the second floor, she put her keys down on the counter, and felt a bushy tail rub up against her leg. Closing the door and locking it, she smiled and picked up her cat.

'Oh Crookshanks, at least you're still around' she whispered to the stubby-nosed cat. He closed his eyes in contentment, and purred quietly as she pet his head. Putting him back on the floor, he slowly made his way to the window, and jumped onto the side table so he could look out at the passing cars.

Turning on a light, she began to look through her kitchen to see what to eat. She did not want to eat too much, because she was going out tonight to go see a friend anyways.

The day she found out Neville was still alive, she could not believe it. He was able to escape Hogwarts before it fell, and somehow ended up in Ireland. He waited until after the reformation to return to England and in the process—like Hermione—changed his name, though he just had to change his last name.

It was by complete coincidence that she found out. She was taking some time off, and went to Liverpool to visit some family. While there, she and her aunt were walking along the habourfront when she literally ran into him. He had just crossed the Irish Sea on a fishing trawler, and the difference in his appearance was overwhelming to Hermione.

Neville had, in that last battle, fought bravely, but paid dearly for it. He survived of course, but a long scar marked the side of his face, he walked with a limp, and his right arm never worked the same after the curse Bellatrix Lestrange enacted on it.

Hermione heard all about his flight, and how he was able to survive in Ireland. He ended up living in London too, and Hermione was pleased to hear he was not far from her own apartment.

She was of course worried about the curfew, but planned on leaving before it took effect. Neville invited her to stay the night to not get in trouble, and she was happy for his hospitality. She had never been to his place, and she knew he would be a gentleman about it. Hermione liked Neville as a friend—a very close friend—but she was not in the mood for a partner. Too many deep emotional scars remained from years past, and she knew she was not ready for that step yet.

Making a light snack, she sat down on her comfortable brown couch, and turned on the television. Crookshanks glanced at Hermione from the table, his eyes bright from the light outside, and she pat the side of the couch next to him. He determinately dropped onto the carpet and trotted over; jumping up on the couch, and laying down next to her under her hand, so she could slowly pet him while watching the news.

'Fifteen arrests were made today in Bristol after terrorists tried to destroy a building holding hundreds of unarmed civilians' a plump newswoman told on the evening news. Hermione sighed, and took another bite of her small sandwich.

'In other news, Chancellor Crepund met with the London Council to discuss the rising crime rate in East London. The Chancellor assured that the violence will soon decrease, and stressed that the public must be vigilant against illegal activity.'

Hermione put down her sandwich, and turned the television off. These days, all the news was about violence occurring. She was smart enough to know the stories they neglected specifics about were probably the ones they were told not to report on. Saying "violence will soon decrease" meant more arrests, and more Markers on the streets; both of which were not pleasant.

Getting up and placing her plate in the kitchen, Hermione went ahead and changed into something better. She did want to look nice for Neville. They talked a few times on the phone, but they could not really discuss normal things, since the phone lines were scanned by the government. Mentioning magic would be a grave mistake.

Changing into a nice, but proper skirt and blouse, she checked her watch, and began to hurry as it read 6:45pm. It was not a long walk to Neville's, but fifteen minutes would be cutting it short. She knew the Markers walked around curfew time, just aching to find someone out late. A young woman like her would be quite the target, especially if they found she was a witch, or ex-witch.

Grabbing her coat, she gave Crookshanks, who stayed on the couch and watched her run back and forth from her room to the washroom getting read, a gentle pat. He closed his eyes in contentment, and watched as she grabbed her bag of clothes and other items for the overnight, and left.

Walking out into the street, she sighed in frustration at her watch, which now read 6:55pm. There was no way she could make it to Neville's before the curfew. She started off anyways, knowing he would worry if she did not show.

There were other concerns besides the Markers. Illegals and other delinquents roamed the night streets. Hermione kept a bottle of pepper spray just in case, although she wished she could carry her wand.

Walking along the street, the lamps cast their light onto the sidewalk. It was eerie walking this late at night now, since no one was outside. The clicks from her shoes hitting the pavement reverberated around the area, and everything else was deadly quiet.

Hearing a shuffle, Hermione turned around to see a hunched man walk across the street in the darkness. He was far enough away not to pose a concern, but Hermione increased her pace.

Turning back around, she saw another man standing under a nearby lamp, looking down at her. Worry began to fester in Hermione's mind, and looking around, she turned down a side street, in hopes of avoiding anyone.

Still walking at a fast pace, she turned to check if anyone was pursuing her, when she ran into what felt like the side of a cow. Startled, she whipped her head around to see she had ran into a rather large and beefy man.

'Oh, sorry Miss, are you alright?' he asked kindly, checking her over. Looking at him, Hermione could see no reason for him to worry about walking after curfew. He was a very tall man, and had arms the size of tree trunks on him.

'I'm alright, there were some men following me' she explained, hoping to end this conversation and make it to Neville's soon.

'I see. And what has you out so late tonight?' the man asked, his tone changing slightly. Hermione began feeling nervous over this fellow, and backed away slowly, still staying close so the distance was not too noticeable.

'I'm going to visit my father, he is ill' Hermione lied, glancing around to see the streets still as empty as ever. There was a dark corridor to their right that led into an alley, and the large man noticed her glance.

'Ill father eh? What do you think about that Simon?' the man asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder.

'Spoutin' lies this one is Henry' the man named Simon said in his grizzled voice. He was a shorter than Henry, but his eyes frightened Hermione. They were bright blue, and reminded her of the late Alastor Moody's magical eye.

Simon approached closer, and Hermione turned to see Henry doing the same. 'Perhaps we should figure out her real reason for being out here' Henry responded. Hermione had enough, and pulled out her pepper spray from her purse, pointing at both Henry, and Simon—who had moved around to face Hermione.

'Stay away from me, the both of you' she demanded, Henry smiling at her.

'Oh, you'll be regretting that missy' he informed, pulling out a black flipbook to show a picture of his face, and the green Dark Mark below it. Hermione's eyes grew wide as she glanced at the skull and the snake.

'How could you Mark me like that?' she asked, her mind running through what she should do. Running was an idea, however if these men were Markers, they would just use magic on her. She began beating herself up inside for not bringing it with her.

'Catching on now aren't you? You'll be com'n with us now missy' Henry maintained darkly. Simon fidgeted, and moved a step forward.

'Hmm, perhaps we can have a bit o' fun with this one hey Henry? She's quite a pretty Muggle isn't she?' Simon expressed slyly, moving closer, and reaching out to her arm. The moment his dirty fingers touched her shoulder, Hermione acted before she knew what she was doing.

Spraying both faces of the Markers, Hermione turned and ran as fast as possible through the corridor, and into the dank alley. She could hear footsteps behind her, and suddenly she was struck in the back with what she knew was a spell, and hit the cobblestone ground hard.

'Thinkin' you could run away from us eh deary? You have no idea who you're dealing with do yeh?' Simon questioned, looking down at her as she rolled over on the wet ground.

'You know Simon, I think we will have that fun before we bring her in' Henry said smiling at Simon. Hermione began panicking as Simon bent down, and took hold of her shoulders.

'No, please! Don't do this!' Hermione yelled at the two men.

'Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once+' a deep and calm voice said from the shadows behind the men. Simon and Henry turned, and Hermione was able to glimpse the man who spoke, and caught her breath in the process.

A tall, cloaked man stood in the archway. Dressed entirely in black, complete with black hair and a black wide brimmed top, he was hard to notice until you saw his mask. It was a mask of Guy Fawkes, coloured ivory white. The darkness of the night and the dimness of the alley made the mask look as if it was floating in mid air.

'Who are you?' Henry demanded, turning around while Simon watched, but kept hold of Hermione's shoulders.

'Men at some time are masters of their fates++' the voice said again in eerie calmness.

Henry seemed to be getting annoyed by this man. 'Look here, we're Markers, so you'd best be-'

Henry was stopped when a bright string of red light shot from the darkness near the masked man, and Henry was thrown across the alley, and slammed hard into the brick wall. He slid down the side, and was clearly knocked out, if not killed from the spell.

Simon instantly threw Hermione on the ground, and took out his own wand. 'Crucio!' he yelled, the spell jetting off at the masked stranger. The man seemed to vanish from the dark archway, and reappeared next to it. Another spell flew from the masked man's general position, and Simon was lifted off the ground, and thrown back down the alley.

Quietness filled the alley, and Hermione kept low on the cold and wet ground as she saw the masked man come into the dim lamp light. He was a tall man, but not as tall as Henry was. His mask surveyed the area, and stopped at Hermione, who cringed and inched farther away along the ground.

'Do not worry, I mean you no harm. Are you alright?' the mask stranger asked easily, looking at Hermione through the mask and remaining on the opposite side of the alley.

'I'm alright, thank you. Who are you?' she asked as she stood up slowly, glancing at Henry and Simon, both of whom remained motionless.

'Who? Who is but a title placed upon the what, and what I am is a man in a mask.'

'I noticed' Hermione quipped, rubbing her shoulders trying both to remain calm, and warm.

'Gathering from your initial reaction I figured as much. I am merely commenting on the paradox of asking a masked man who he is' the masked stranger explained.

'Alright' Hermione answered, not knowing how to respond to such a statement. Just because this man got rid of the Markers, does not mean he is safe to trust. It is after curfew, and some who roam the streets of London at night can be dangerous, especially those who wear masks.

'But a title must be needed, for everything has a title these days. So, with that in mind, let me paint you a picture of this persona to which I call myself' he stated, Hermione again becoming nervous over this new fellow.

'Both victim and villain I am called' he started, looking at Hermione with his head tilted. 'For neither can be verified nor versed. Veiled and vanished from the voracious and vindictive, I remain vivified to vindicate the valiant and vanquish vice and venal vermin.

'Vanguarding the vigilant from the venom of the vain, I stand vivified that the valiant will once again venture forwards, and with a velocity and vanity unseen will vilify and vault the vile and restore the vestige of valour to the world' he stated loudly, turning quickly and with his wand, marking out two intersecting lines of fire on the wall to make a V.

'The verdict to be made is vengeance; a vendetta, vying vicissitude and not vicarious viciousness' he said quietly, turning back towards Hermione who was still standing close the other wall.

'So let me close by saying I am very honoured to meet you, and you may call me V.'

**So there it is, the first chapter. Now I know this follows the movie quite a bit, but trust me, the rest of it really won't be alike. It'll go off in a totally different way, and should be interesting to write and read.**

**Now, if you can please review and let me know what you think that would be great. That last part with all the v-words took a while to write, so let me know how that was. Also, if you have any good Shakespeare quotes or quotes from old books, I'd apprieciate any help. Thanks!**

**Oh, and lastly; this character V, to get you all thinking and wondering, is someone from the books. :)**

**_Spell/Name/Verse Meanings:_**  
**Crepund** - L. crepundia - plaything, a toy  
+ - From Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene III  
++ - From Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene II


	2. The Warning

**A/N - Alright, second chapter! I wrote this quickly, so please tell me if you like it or not by reviewing please! I'm having fun with this story, and I hope you are too!**

** A slight edit: Ron was not killed by Death Eaters, but by Voldemort as you will see. As in the first chapter, Seamus still saves Hermione from Hogwarts, but that comes after she was found on the mountain-side.**

**  
**

_- CHAPTER TWO -_

**The Warning**

_The voice always haunted her dreams, if you would call them that. She called them nightmares, and most people would agree with her. It was terrible enough having to witness the scene first hand unable to do anything, but reliving it every time she slept was too much._

_It started as it did that night; dark, cold, and filled with fear. Hermione had just narrowly escaped from several Death Eaters, and luckily with no injury. The masked followers of the Dark Lord were everywhere, and Hermione could hear the screams of panic overcoming the Ministry officials and the Order of the Phoenix in the distance. Only Harry could win the war for them now._

_Being careful to not be seen, Hermione climbed over the rocks carefully, as she tried to reach the ledge where she knew Harry and Ron went to. The three of them had seen Voldemort up there, but when Death Eaters came around a line of trees, they got separated. Hermione held off the Death Eaters long enough so Ron and Harry escaped, but she was held back. She luckily lost them after a few moments in the undergrowth at the foot of the mountain._

_Reaching up the steep incline, she lost her footing, and her right leg scraped painfully against the malicious rocks. She steadied herself carefully and tried to put pressure on her foot, but the pain was terrible._

_Seeing a flash of green light from above, Hermione neglected her torn leg, and began climbing again. Her hands were scratched and bruised, but she was too focused at getting to the top to care. Ron and Harry were there, and she needed to be there to help them._

_Getting closer, she could hear Harry yelling—in pain. Her heart hollowed as his yells filled the air, followed by a courageous shout from Ron, and a blast of red light. Harry's pain filled cries stopped, and Hermione moved quicker knowing the situation was dire._

_Reaching the edge—oblivious to the devastation that was gripping the Ministry and the Order behind her on the plains below—she pulled her upper body up over the ledge, and her eyes fell on her best friends._

_Looking up, she could see Harry on the ground, clutching at his leg as blood covered it entirely. Ron was standing above him, and trying to protect him from the dark figure of Lord Voldemort, who was standing on the opposite side of the ledge. Hermione could never forget those red eyes looking at her friends through the darkness. The storm clouds above them shaded everything in the world murky, though the rain held off._

_'Crucio!' Voldemort yelled out, and Ron had no choice but to dive away from the curse. He hit the rock hard, and before he could look up, Voldemort had already disarmed him of his wand._

_'Expelliarimus!' Harry tried from his position on the ground, but Lord Voldemort proved too strong. He merely waved off the curse, and instead focused on Ron. With a sinister flick of his wand, Ron was levitated up off the rocks, and slowly over the side of the ledge. Hermione tried to move, to get over the edge and standing, but her leg was too badly injured, and the panic running through her mind caused her to painfully hesitate._

_'Say goodbye to your "friend" Potter' Voldemort spoke, a dark sense of pride infecting his speech._

_Hermione would never forget the look in Ron's eyes at that moment. He knew what was to come, and he knew Harry and Hermione could not stop it. He looked towards Hermione, and the gaze lasted forever. She could see the hopelessness in his beautiful blue eyes, and the pain of knowing he was going to die. Harry was screaming and trying everything and anything to stop the Dark Lord, but it was too late._

_With a sickening nudge of his wand, Voldemort let go of Ron, and the man Hermione loved so dearly fell out of sight over the cliffs edge. There was no scream of terror, no cry for help; only the sound of distant wizards and witches dueling below._

_Hermione was motionless. She could not believe Ron was gone, so quickly, so quietly._

_'I'm going to kill you!' Harry screamed at Lord Voldemort, as he tried to prop himself up off the rocks. Hermione's eyes moved slowly over and gazed at Harry. She was still in utter disbelief, and looked to find Harry—in immense pain—standing on is broken leg, with his wand still pointed at Lord Voldemort._

_'AVADA KEDAVRA!' Harry screamed, as the green light spewed from his wand. Voldemort cast the same spell, and the wands connected like they had many times that day._

_Hermione stared at her hand in the bright glow of light from the wand connection, and looked at her own wand. She could not save Ron, but Harry was still alive, in front of her now. She leaned over on her chest, and raised her wand._

_'CRUCIO!' she yelled out at Voldemort. His attention was shifted instantly at the new voice, and he was caught unprepared. He fell over, and the connection stopped, and Harry took advantage of the time._

_'AVADA KED-' he started, but got no further. A massive black snake came out from behind a rock near his good leg, and snapped its jaws around it. Harry screamed in pain as the snake clamped down on his leg, and he fell to the ground—his wand dropping out of his hand. Hermione was so shocked by the violence of it all, unable to help, she did not see Lord Voldemort get back up, and crackling evilly at Harry's terrible pain, and Hermione's fearful expression._

_With another sickly flick of his wand, Hermione was thrown off the ledge, and fell down onto the rocks below._

_She could feel the wind around here, and the sound of it as it roared past her ears. It lasted on a second or two, and was silenced by a disgusting set of cracks from her bones breaking on the rocks. She could feel her bones screaming in pain, but her attention was still up above where her mind remained._

_In the closing moments, she could still hear Harry screaming in pain, and her eyes let out their first tears of the day. Her eyes stinged as she forced them open again, and glanced upwards at the mountainside._

_Out of focus, and through her tears, she saw the last flash of green light from the ledge above reflect around the edges, and she closed her eyes tightly, hiccupping a breath._

_Lord Voldemort had won the war._

--

'Hermione?' someone called, as Hermione felt a nudge on her shoulder. 'Hermione, wake up!'

Opening her eyes, she sat straight up and scanned the area quickly. She was in a house, filled with warm yellow light from the sun that shone through the windows. The walls were decked in canary yellow wallpaper with nice little white patterns, and several paintings of scenic spots in England and Scotland were hung about.

Looking down at herself, she quickly checked her leg and found it was alright. She could feel the sweat on her legs and the rest of her body. She was sitting on an old—but comfortable—brown couch, with an equally old scarlet blanket on her.

Feeling a hand being placed on her forearm, she jumped as she remembered back to the nightmare, and the day she was found on the side of the mountain.

'Are you alright Hermione?' the man asked, looking worried at her. Hermione took in a deep breath, and placed a hand on top of his—which was scared in several places.

'I'm alright Neville, thank you. It was . . . just a bad dream' she explained, Neville looking down and nodding. He moved over slowly, and Hermione moved her legs so he could sit at the end of the couch.

'I know what you mean, I have them all the time too. Will you be alright?' he asked kindly.

Hermione smiled at him warmly, and nodded. Neville was such a sweetheart, she was so glad he survived. He deserved so much more than what he had, working in a greenhouse as a plant transplanter. He still loved herbology and such, but like Hermione, gave up magic years ago.

'Did you want some breakfast?' he asked, looking at her with still a hint of worry in his eyes.

'Thank you Neville' she replied, and Neville stood up slowly, and made his way to the kitchen. Hermione stayed on the couch for a few moments, breathing in deeply and reminding herself things were alright. She hated the nightmare, and yet it came every night. It always took a few moments to calm herself in the mornings.

Getting up off the couch, she walked over into Neville's blue tiled kitchen, and sat down at the table. She had fallen asleep in her clothes from the night before, but she did not mind with what happened before reaching Neville's flat.

'So' Neville finally said, after putting Hermione's toast down on a plate for her, 'what happened last night?'. On his budget, Neville could not afford many luxuries, like jam or eggs, but Hermione of course did not mind. She was just lucky to be alive to enjoy the toast.

'I just ran into some Markers, and got a bit scared, but I'm alright' she tried to pass off quietly. She should have remembered Neville was kind, not stupid.

'"Just ran into some Markers!" Hermione, you don't just run into them. What happened?' he asked again, looking at her closely. She put her toast down, and sighed.

'It was nothing Neville, really' she expressed quietly, reaching for the margarine. Neville pulled it away—a bit of pain wiping across his face as it was his bad arm—and looked at her harshly.

'Hermione, don't pull that on me. I've known you longer than anyone else, and I know when you're lying. If you're worried, I promise I won't tell another living soul.'

'No Neville, I'm not-' she started, taking a breath, and exhaling it slowly. 'I'm not worried, it was . . . just strange.'

'What was strange?' he asked, leaning in more. Hermione looked at her toast again, and then glanced at Neville's face, her eyes catching sight of his scar on his right side. She had to remember who she was talking to.

'There was this man, he . . . he was dressed in black, and he attacked the Markers that were going to take me away for being out after curfew.'

'I told you not to go out after-'

'Yes, yes, I know Neville' she insisted, putting her hand up, and leaning back in her chair.

'So what was so strange about a man trying to help you?' he questioned. Hermione looked out the window over the sink on the right, and over at the window in the sitting room on the left, and leaned in over the table.

'He was a wizard' she whispered, seeing his dazed reaction as she expected. She sat back down, and let him understand.

'A . . . wizard? And he attacked the Markers?' he asked, Hermione nodding. He leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling letting out a breath.

'Well, did he just attack them and go, or did he stick around?'

'He stayed afterwards, and asked if I was alright' Hermione informed.

'Anything else?' Neville asked, leaning onto the table again.

'He asked me for my name.'

'Which one did you give him?'

'Hermione' she answered, Neville letting out an disappointed sigh.

'Hermione, why did you do that? What if he was a Marker trying to deceive you?' he asked strictly.

'He wasn't a Marker Neville!' Hermione replied back, a bit of anger rising in her voice. She started to get the idea that Neville thought she couldn't take care of herself.

'How are you sure?'

'Because he practically killed the two who were trying to get me, and he brought be here safely' Hermione snapped back, getting up from the table, and bringing her plate to the sink. Neville sat quietly, and Hermione put her plate in the sink, and leaned on it.

'I'm sorry Hermione. I don't think you're inept, I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're like a sister to me' Neville commented to her from the table. She turned towards him, and dropped her angry stance in favour of a more relaxed one.

'It's OK Neville, I should have been more careful.' She walked back to the table, patting him on his good shoulder lightly, and sat back down. Neville took a sip of his tea, and placed the cup back on its plate.

'Anything else about this guy?' he asked calmly.

'He said his name was V, and that he was looking for vengeance' she recalled. It was still hazy in her mind, but she did recall a bit of his rambling in all those v-words.

Neville narrowed his eyes in thought, and leaned back in his chain. 'V' he said, still thinking. 'He didn't say exactly who he was seeking vengeance against did he?'

'Not that I recall, though he did mention something about vanquishing vermin and some other stuff with too many v's. It sounded like he might be standing up against the Markers. He sounded crazy enough to try it too' Hermione asserted. Neville stood slowly, and made his way slowly to the sink, and placed his dishes inside.

'Yes, well, it sounds like the Markers will make short work of him. Tell me, do you work today?' he asked.

'No, I have Saturdays off luckily.' Neville came back around the counter, and leaned against it with his cane in his other hand.

'It might be terribly rude to ask, but would you mind if I came and saw your apartment?' he asked, a tinge of red entering his cheeks. Hermione chuckled, and stood from her chair.

'Of course you can! Crookshanks will be happy to see a familiar face!' she boasted, making Neville beam brightly.

Hermione freshened herself up, and Neville cleaned up the dishes and fed his fish before they left. Hermione could have sworn she saw a magical plant in his fish tank, but he gave a gentle push out the door when he noticed her staring at it.

Walking down the street at a leisurely pace, they reached Hermione's apartment building with good time, and she brought him up. There were several kids playing around the area in some of the lawns, and the bright sun shining in the sky gave the day a nice feel to it.

Walking up the stairs proved a bit of a challenge for Neville, but he managed. Getting into her apartment, Hermione put her things away as Neville sat gratefully on her couch. Crookshanks had of course smelled him on the way in, and was happily sitting under his good arm, waiting to be pampered.

Meanwhile in Hermione's room, she was putting her clothes away neatly. She and Neville were planning on going to the park and catching up with each other, and she was excited to talk to someone who knew her as Hermione and not that dreadful "'Mione".

Closing her drawer, and hearing the playful children outside the window, her eyes fell on a picture of her, Ron, and Harry from Platform 9 ¾.

She remembered the day it took place, and she breathed deeply as her mind moved back to happier times with her dear friends still alive. She remembered the days when she sounded like one of those children, and things were so much simpler.

Picking up the frame, she looked at the photo closely, and felt an foreign object on the back. Pulling on it, she found it was a piece of paper; a piece of parchment.

Curious, with a tinge of worry, she opened the parchment—as it was folded—and she read the note.

_They know who you are  
They know where you live  
Get out now and go back to Neville's  
Bring your wand and the cat  
Go now, they are coming_

_V_

**A/N - There we are, chapter 2! Thoughts? Like where it's going? Like that you don't actually see Harry or Ron die? Oh, I'm evil aren't I:) Told you I'd have fun with this story!**

**Please review!**


	3. The Detectives

_- CHAPTER THREE -_

**The Detectives**

Hermione's eyes grew wide at the writing on the small note, and her head turned quickly when a knock came at the front door of her apartment. She ran out of her room—the picture frame still in her hands—and she looked at Neville on her couch.

'Are you going to get it?' Neville asked casually, Hermione still looking terrified.

'Hermione? What's-'

'We need to get out of here, now!' she urged quietly, another loud knock coming from the door.

'Who is it?' Hermione yelled, as she helped Neville up and he moved over to the window to look out.

'There are two cars out there, and some men. Hermione, what's going on?' Neville questioned as he put the blinds back and turned on the spot.

'Miss Granger? This is Captain Shoemaker of the London Police. May we come in please?' a man voiced from the other side of the door. Hermione moved slowly to the door, and looked through the peep hole to see two men standing outside her door. They were wearing black coats and ties, but both had their pistols drawn, and were looking around the hallway.

Hermione could not let them inside. The police reported to the government, and obvious trouble could occur.

'Umm . . . just a moment' Hermione answered hurriedly, lifting up the floor board and picking up the box that contained her wizarding items, including her wand.

She quickly ran over to Neville, and helped him into the centre of the room. Crookshanks was still on the couch, but he watched Hermione moving about with his bright eyes.

'Hermione, just run, I'll keep them here' Neville insisted.

'No, we're leaving together. Remember how to Apparate?'

'Miss Granger, please open this door' the man behind the door said again, this time sounding agitated.

'Yes, just a second. I'm in my knickers' she yelled. She could hear a commotion outside the door, and she quickly called Crookshanks to her.

'Hermione, I can't Apparate anymore. We haven't done it in years!' Neville declared.

'Then just hold on' she insisted. Crookshanks trotted over, and jumped into Hermione's arms. Just as she stood up, the door burst open, and the two men barged into the apartment.

'Stop right there!' Captain Shoemaker yelled, raising his pistol at the two, while his partner did the same.

Hermione was still quick with her reactions, and grabbing Neville's arm, she thought hard of his house, and turned assertively.

It was like she had never Apparated before, and was experiencing it all over again for the first time. The siphoning squeezed on all Hermione's sides, and she felt Neville next to her, bumping along while Crookshanks thrashed violently in her arms.

Her feet finally hit solid ground, just as her stomach was about to upturn, and they landed in Neville's living room. Crookshanks scratched her arm viciously, and she let go of him. He instantly scooted away, and around a corner meowing harshly. Neville was in worse shape, and reached for a nearby rubbish bin as he was sick to his stomach.

'Are you alright Neville?' Hermione asked as she helped him to the couch. His face was pale and he had a cold sweat on his forehead, but he nodded and closed his eyes as he laid back.

'It's just been so long since I've Ap- . . . Apparated' he admitted, breathing slowly, and wiping his face.

'Do you want me to get you a drink?' Hermione asked kindly, holding onto Neville's hand. Ever since the end of the war, Neville's health was never that great. With all his injuries—many like his arm that still hurt—he was easily winded, and constantly got sick from such common things as colds and flues.

'I think . . . I think I'll be alright. How did you know who they were?' he asked, opening his eyes and looking at Hermione. She shifted in her seat a bit, and showed him the note on the back of the picture frame—which she had on top of her wizard items.

Neville read the note, and looked at Hermione. 'V? Is this the same-'

'Yes, I'm sure it is' Hermione professed.

Neville looked at the note for a moment, and then glanced at Hermione worriedly. 'You know, V could be a Marker.' Hermione sighed and stood up.

'Neville, I already told you, he can't be a Marker. You didn't see what he did to those men.'

'I know Hermione' he insisted, putting his hand up. 'But how else would he know about those police men showing up? Plus he knew about me, and your cat, and that you had a wand and such. He knows too much about you.' Hermione was pacing as Neville was talking, and she stopped and looked at Neville.

'I know. It does worry me, but he's saved me twice, from those Markers and now the police. Why would he be helping me escape if he was a Marker?'

'Perhaps he has other plans for you.'

'What happened?' Captain Shoemaker asked surprisingly at his partner.

'I . . . I don't know! They were here a second ago, you saw them didn't you Captain?'

The Captain looked around the living room for a moment, before turning to his brown haired partner, shaking his head. 'No, we didn't see anything.'

'But Captain-'

'No Joseph, we did not see anything. You know what happens to folks who report seeing strange things like people vanishing. We came in, and the flat was empty.'

His partner looked at the floor for a moment in thought, before nodding. 'Alright Stewart. So, what do we report to the Supervisor?'

Stewart sighed as he walked into the bedroom, and started looking at the pictures on the dresser. He glanced at the pictures, some of which included the woman with who appeared to be her parents, as well as some stranger ones with her and two boys in black cloaks.

'We won't be reporting to the Supervisor. The Chief wants me to report directly to the London Council on these matters now.'

Joseph looked shocked at Stewart, and approached the Captain. 'You'll be reporting right to the Council? That's strange.'

Stewart nodded, and picked up one of the photographs, showing a younger version of Miss Granger, hugging a red haired boy in front of what appeared to be a huge castle nestled in the hills. 'I think we've seen enough strange business these past years, we should be getting used to it' he commented, handing the portrait over. 'Any idea where that was taken?'

Joseph looked at the portrait, and scanned it closely. 'Looks a bit like Scotland—before the fires of course. Sir, do you know why they want this girl brought in?'

'Joe, she killed two Markermen. Who knows how a small girl like that did it, but orders were to bring her in.' Stewart pocketed the portrait, and moved back into the living room. They checked the flat one last time for anything strange—only finding a piece of the floorboards loose, showing a hidden, but empty compartment. They left the apartment, and went back downstairs to their car.

'It's alright gents, no one home' Joseph announced to the uniformed police. They both waved, got back in their car, and drove off. Stewart got into the passenger side of the car, and Joseph started it up.

'Where to Stew?' Joseph asked, with a bit of chuckle.

'I told you to stop making that stupid joke' Stewart answered. He hated people calling him "Stew". Reminded him of his mother's cooking.

'Alright, alright. So, where are we going?' Joseph asked again, fixing the mirror.

'Take us back to the department. I want to know more about this Mary Granger.'

The two started off to the police department, and while on the way, Stewart punched up on the computer, information on Mary Granger. Her government photo—the same one on her work ID—showed up on the small screen just above the radio, along with some small details about her.

'Cute girl' Joseph commented, giving the file a glance.

'Yeah, but there isn't much information about her. No parents, no education . . . it's like she just appeared out of no where two years ago, and started working for the publishing office. I want to see what the database says at the department.'

The two arrived at the police department, and walked up the stairs to their office: Investigation and Government Affairs. They dealt with special investigations that came from above. Cases before always dealt with people concerning national security or generally issues that best remained unquestioned. Stewart had experienced enough cases to make normal people question their sanity, however he always remained calm with the secrets he held.

Joseph was newer at his job, only getting it in the last year or so. He still thought in straight lines, such as reporting strange events or taking to regulations for regular police. Stewart knew better, and had to explain that sometimes rules had to be bent, or in some cases, forgotten all together.

Sitting down at his desk, Stewart typed up Miss Granger's name, and found a similar file on the government database. The same picture, where she lived, and that she worked at the publishing office; that's it.

'Bloody hell, what in the world happened with this girl?' Stewart voiced in frustration. He thought the government file would have more information, and it clearly did not. 'I mean, how could she get hired at the publishing office when they don't even know when she's born!'

Joseph came around, and looked at the file while Stewart sighed, and lowered his head. 'Well, it's obvious she changed her name, but the question is from what.'

'Yeah, well, I have to report to the Council in one hour, and I don't even know her real name. All I have is her picture and the name she's been going by.'

'That's a start at least. Once it gets on the broadband and the network, we'll catch her up easy' Joseph insisted calmly, going back around and sitting at his desk.

'Somehow I have a feeling the Council won't be too pleased with my information though.'

'Do you have the girl Shoemaker?' the voice asked. Stewart had only heard the voice of the Lord once before. He disliked calling him "Lord", but everyone on the Council called him that. Some even added "Dark" before that, which seemed to suit him well.

'No my Lord, we went to the woman's apartment but found it empty. We did a background check on the woman, but found little information on her' Stewart explained. He, along with the other five members of the London Council spoke directly with the Lord of Britain—short formed to the Lord. They all sat at a semi-circle black table, in a dark room about the size of a small gymnasium. Spotlights focused on the table, and the rest of the room was black. Facing the semi-circle table was a large movie screen, on which the Lord would appear. You could never actually see his face—since he himself would stay in the darkness—but his voice was always the most terrifying thing about the man.

The Lord's head turned to show a subdued—if not non-existent—nose, and he breathed in a hiss-like breath. 'I am very . . . displeased with this Shoemaker. I want to know who killed these two Markers.' Stewart fumbled with his thoughts for a moment, before quickly rearranging them.

'We do have some information for you my Lord. She works at the publishing office, and lives at the address we looked at. Her name is Mary Granger, but it appears she had a different name before-'

'Granger' one of the other Council members voiced. The silhouette of the Lord turned, and looked at the man.

'You know this name?' the Lord asked. The member of the Council moved forward into the light.

'I do my Lord. Her real name is Hermione; Hermione Granger. She's Mudblood filth' the man spoke. Stewart had no idea what a "Mudblood" was, but it did not sound too pleasing. The man who spoke was a Marker, in his early twenties, who was one of the higher ranked ones that dealt with more . . . complicated situations. Stewart had turned some of his arrests to this man, and he could always remember the glint of sinister pleasure in his eyes when a new arrest would be made.

'Ah . . . I remember, the Dead Boy's friend. She is not dead then' the Lord stated. Stewart had been to a few of these meetings before, and this "Dead Boy" had come up once or twice. He always wondered who they were talking about.

'Should I send Markers to find her my Lord?' the pale faced man asked.

'No, she is not worthy of such a chase. Shoemaker will bring her in, and then he will turn her over to you Mr. Malfoy' the Lord instructed. The pale Marker lowered his head in agreement, and looked over at Stewart with a displeased stare from his silver eyes.

'Yes my Lord' Stewart replied.

'Good. Go, and bring this woman in. She is a threat that must be squashed. Bella, Malfoy will stay, the rest of you go.'

Stewart stood, bowed to the Lord's projection, and left. The other Council members, a fat man with a pointy face scurried out first, and then the two other members walked behind Stewart. One was a woman, middle aged and looking thoroughly displeased with herself, and the other was the Director of the Broadband Network, or BN. He was in charge of all the media coverage in Britain—specifically in London, and was about the only member of the Council—aside from Stewart—that did not give such a . . . strange vibe.

Stewart went straight back to the office, and found Joseph still there.

'So, how was it?' he asked as Stewart took off his coat and sat down in his computer chair.

'Well, they didn't black bag me. I found out her first name used to be Hermy-own, or something like that.'

'Hermy-what?' Joseph asked, with a quirked brow.

'I know, strange name. I should have asked for the spelling, though knowing those Markers they probably don't know how to spell' Stewart quipped, getting a shushing motion from Joseph.

'Stewart, be quiet! At least get me to do this first' he said, taking out what looked like small cell phone, and propping it up on his desk. A little red light flashed for a moment, before turning green.

'There! Now, the name again was . . .' Joseph started, typing away at his computer.

'Hermy-something. Hermy-own, Hermy-scone, I don't know' Stewart said frustratedly.

Joseph went ahead and searched it only, and found a name close to it. 'Here, from a Shakespeare play: Hermione. That sound close?'

'That's it! How did you find out?'

'Please, what's the best way to find anything on everything?' Joseph asked, receiving a smile from Stewart.

'God bless the man who invented Google. He had to be English' Stewart declared, typing in Hermione Granger into the government database.

A file popped up, and Stewart clicked on it, with Joseph coming behind and leaning down.

'Anything good?' he asked, Stewart reading the information.

'Hmm' Stewart replied, scrolling down. 'Raised in Somerset, parents were both dentists, died two years ago.' He clicked on the parents names, and found their files as well.

'Both parents were normal citizens until the riots before the reformation. One was killed by riot police, and the other was arrested and died in prison from a hunger strike' Stewart read aloud.

'Blimey' Joseph commented, Stewart nodding.

'Yeah. It's strange, her education information is restricted, and it seems most of the important things—her friends, relatives, where she lived—all of it is restricted.'

'Restricted even to you?' Joseph asked.

'Yeah . . . something doesn't add up. I mean, I know information was lost during the reformation, but this is restricted.'

'Perhaps we should contact the Markers, maybe they can release the information?' Joseph asked, Stewart shaking his head forcefully.

'Joseph, when have Markers released any information on anything? They bury information . . . and people' he asserted. 'No, this Granger girl, there's something up about her.'

'You still don't think she offed those Markermen?' Joseph asked, leaning back on a file cabinet.

'Well . . . I mean, I'm not sure. We don't even know how they died. We need to get to her, and find out more information. The government wants her found, so we need to focus on that.' Stewart leaned back in his chair for a moment, and thought to himself. 'Alright, we'll start by asking neighbors and other tenants. Perhaps we'll get somewhere there.'

'Alright' Joseph asked, giving a yawn and stretching his arms.

'We'll have to start tomorrow since it's too late now. Be here early and we'll canvas the area' Stewart stated, the yawn now infecting him.

'Hey, I'm always early' Joseph maintained, smiling, and picking up his coat and his little cell-phone like device. Joseph left moments later, and Stewart was left in the office by himself, looking at the picture of Hermione.

'What is the story behind you?'

'Neville?' Hermione questioned, as she slept on the couch. It was night, and the two of them spent the entire day inside Neville's house. A police officer or two came to the house and asked if Neville had seen Mary Granger, but he of course said no. They were tense moments for Hermione, but she braved through them in Neville's basement, and at night, she came upstairs and slept on his couch.

She had heard a noise in the darkened house, and wondered if it was Neville upstairs in his room. It seemed like it was the wind—or perhaps Crookshanks still getting used to the new home—but she laid back down, and sighed.

She wondered what she would do, now that it seemed the government was looking into her past. They would find out about her name change, her real history, and then all hell would break loose. She put her hands to her face, and breathed slowly to try and calm herself.

'You did well to follow my advice' that same deep, yet calm voice sounded from the darkness as before. Hermione bolted up quickly and nearly shrieked when she saw the man who called himself V standing just on the other side of the kitchen. His wide brimmed hat was lowered, but you could just make out the edge of the ivory mask.

'How did you get in here?' she asked, clutching her chest as she gained her breath.

'You seem to forget that magic has it's uses—good and bad' V replied calmly.

'What are you doing here? Are you a Marker?' Hermione asked abruptly. She did not intend to sound so forward with the questions, but the words escaped her mouth too quickly.

'I, like Apollo, try to find my way in this chaotic world to help those such as yourself. As for a Marker, some would say I am a Marker of sorts.'

'Alright, are you a good guy or a bad guy?' Hermione asked simply, pulling the blanket closer to her. She was, after all, only in her pajamas.

'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so' V spoke airily.

'That doesn't really tell me the answer' she asserted, hearing V breathe—something close to a chuckle.

'Whether I tell you I am good or bad makes no difference, for I could say either and lie both times. I was merely saying it matters what you think I am, not what I tell you.'

Hermione of course, still had no answer; nothing definitive anyways. She sat up, and V walked into the living room. His black cloak hung just an inch or so above the floor, and his black boots made a heavy thud with each step.

'Why are you here, right now' she questioned.

'To warn you once again.'

'They aren't coming now are they?' Hermione asked worriedly, instinctively turning to look out the window. Luckily, she only found an empty street.

'No, not now, but soon. You are not safe here Hermione, even with Neville and your beloved cat. You must leave the city, or they will capture you. Believe me Hermione, you do not wish to be captured.'

'But they already know where I live, and what I look like! How did they find out?' Hermione asked with a stressed voice.

'It does not matter how they found out, only that they know. You must leave Neville and everything behind by tomorrow, or they will find you, and no one will ever see you again.'

Hermione was panicking in her mind with all the reality that was storming at her. She could not believe that only two days before she was at her apartment, watching television with Crookshanks on her lap. Now, she was discussing leaving London—and possibly Britain—to a man in a mask in Neville's living room at, she checked her watch, three a.m.

'Why are you helping me?' she asked V seriously. V stepped forward, and leaned down to look at her, his mask now fully visible. The black moustache followed the brim of the mouth, and the eyes were contrastive black to the white of the face.

'Because you helped me once' he spoke softly. Hermione's mind was intrigued by this statement, and she began flipping through all the people she knew who could fit V's profile. Of course, she quickly found that none of her past friends or acquaintances fit the profile.

'I helped you?' she asked, V nodding.

'Yes, a long time ago, when we were both different people. Tell me Hermione, what are you doing at the moment?'

Hermione was surprised by the off topic question, but answered she was sleeping. Even she thought a man in a mask could see that.

'Ah, of course. Would you be interested in seeing the performance I will be giving tonight?'

'Performance?' she asked worriedly.

'Yes, music of course. I consider myself quite an excellent musician, and I would be most honoured if you would join me' he expressed cheerfully, offering his hand.

'I don't think I should, I should get to bed and-'

'I promise it will be like nothing you have ever seen, and on my word, you will be brought back here afterwards.'

'I'm sorry, but, I mean, I'm in my pajamas and-' Hermione began, however V quickly gave a whisk of his wand, and Hermione was suddenly dressed in pants, a sweater, and a light Autumn jacket.

Hermione looked over her new clothes, and found them to fit rather well. She looked up at V, and could tell he was smiling—if only a little—under the mask.

'Alright, but we must be back quickly' she declared. She could not believe she was agreeing to go, but some part of her wanted to find out who this V was. She knew him from the past somehow; she just had this feeling about it. Plus, she had to admit, he did save her twice already.

Taking his outstretched hand—on which he wore a black, leather glove—her hand was soon grasped by V's strong, and considerably larger hand. She moved over closer to him, and it was here again that she realized that he was a tall man. Perhaps the boots put on a few inches, but he was easily half a dozen inches taller than her. That eliminated some of her old friends, but most were still possibilities.

'We will Apparate there, so please keep a hold, and focus on staying with me' V instructed. Hermione nodded, and with a twist of his frame, Hermione twisting as well, the two of them Apparated with crack.

After another bout of siphoning and tube-like squeezing, her feet landed on the solid of a rooftop, which she realized a moment later, was in London. She looked about as V let go of her hand, and she glanced up and down the empty street that was below them, and to the skyline in front of her.

'I've been here before' Hermione commented, as she looked at the store fronts and other buildings on the street. V took a step forward, and Hermione's eyes fell on him again.

'Of course you have. Doesn't that phone booth look familiar?'

Hermione looked towards where his mask was looking, and saw the red phone booth she remembered cramming into with her other friends years before.

'The Ministry?' she questioned, V nodding slowly.

'Yes. Now part of Voldemort's government' V explained, Hermione's mind filling of memories at the mention of Voldemort's name.

Memories of that last day, with the fall of Hogwarts and the beginning of the fires across the highlands raced through her mind. She remembered how Voldemort swept through the castle—killing students and staff without mercy. The vision of Colin Creevy falling after trying to protect Remus Lupin, who had fallen after being blasted off a staircase, and then of Remus himself getting killed by that horrible green light moved in front of Hermione's eyes.

'Hermione, are you alright?' V asked, his mask looking at her.

'Oh, yes, I'm alright. You're giving a musical performance here? I don't see any instruments' Hermione mentioned, not feeling to sure of her decision.

'I see your sense of observation is still working well' V quipped, taking out his wand. 'But for this I will call upon much more than just a single instrument. Oh no, for this, it requires much more' he boasted, raising his wand.

'Tell me Hermione, do you know the date?' he asked calmly, his wand still raised. Hermione boggled her mind for a moment before answering.

'Well, it would be . . . November the fifth.'

'Precisely, two years since Hogwarts fell' V pointed out quietly, taking a step forward and looking upwards, and a distant clocktower rang out three a.m.

'Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the gunpowder, treason, and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot' he whispered, looking back down.

'V, what are you doing?' Hermione asked, as she looked about, wondering what he had planned.

'Life may change, but it may fly not; hope may vanish, but can die not. Truth be veiled, but still it burneth; love repulsed, - but it returneth' he whispered again, his voice being carried by the light wind to Hermione's ears.

He took his wand, and began moving it about like he was a conductor for a symphony, moving it about slowly and fluidly. Hermione began to question V's sanity, when she could only seconds later, began hearing music through the air.

'I hear it!' she declared, as the music built in volume.

'Of course you do, but wait. Wait for the crescendo!' he stated, as his conducting became more and more emphasized. Just as the music seemed to reach it's loud point, and Hermione could see people from their flats leaning out to wonder where it came from, V came down with his wand, and a blue spark shot out and hit the red phone booth.

An almighty explosion came from below, and the phone booth blasted into thousands of pieces. The ground shook as the street began to rumble, and a blast erupted out of the pavement, and Hermione shielded her eyes as debris shot high into the air, as the music continued to play all around her. Hermione glanced at V, and he was still swishing his wand about, shooting off blue sparks towards the street below as the pavement continued to give away.

'Verisignum!' V shouted as he raised his wand in the air, and two massive bolts of white light rose above the rooftop—and the smoldering crater than now existed where the Ministry once was—and etched a white V high in the night sky.

It took a few moments for Hermione to realize that the man who saved her from the Markers, and the police, just blew up the entire Ministry.

Hermione had no idea who or what V was, but he was definately not a Marker.

**A/N - Thoughts? Your advice on how the story is progressing would be very much appreciated.**

**The scene at the end with the explosion parallels the movie very much so, but I chose the Ministry instead, because it is more symbolic to this story. I do hope you like my detectives, and the spin I'm putting on the Council and such.**

_**Spell/Name/Verse Meanings:**_  
**Stewart Shoemaker** - Stewart Old English: stig - house, weard - guard, Shoemaker A shoe maker, a small profession (Stewart Shoemaker House guard of a small profession)  
**Joseph Placord** - Joesph Latin: Iosephus, from the Greek Ιωσηφος (Iosephos), from Hebrew יוֹסֵף (Yosef) - he will add, Placord plac: Placidus - quiet, ord: Ordinatus - order, orderly (Joseph Placord He will add quiet and order)  
**Apollo** - Greek God, one of his symbols is that of protection.  
Quote from Hamlet, Act II, Scene II  
Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley, English Romantic poet, 1792 - 1822  
**Versignum** - L. verum - truth, signum - mark


	4. The Broadcast

**A/N - Sorry for the wait here folks with this story. Here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy!  
**

- CHAPTER FOUR - 

**The Broadcast**_**  
**_

Slamming the door shut, Hermione ran to the couch and made sure the curtains were shut. It was late—very late—and yet she did not feel a wink of tiredness. Not after what she had just witnessed.

The man called V had just blown up the old Ministry; the same Ministry that she and man of her old friends stormed during her sixth year at Hogwarts.

He seemed so calm about it afterwards, like he had just emptied out the rubbish bin. They Apparated back to Neville's, and she ran inside, not one word spoken between the two of them.

Hermione was now sitting on the couch, trying to calm her breathing while her mind tumbled into thousands of thoughts. What was she to do now? Why did he show her this? How does he know so much about her and what the police and Markers are doing? Who is he?

'Hermione? Hermione is that you?' a voice whispered from the stairwell, Neville slowly making it down. Crookshanks was following him down slowly, keeping pace and looking up at him periodically. Neville made it to the bottom and Crookshanks hopped over to Hermione, and rubbed into her side.

'It's- . . . it's me Neville' Hermione answered slowly, looking off at some spot in the kitchen with her head in her hands.

'Are you alright? Where were you, and why are you dressed? Is everything O.K.?' he asked consecutively. Hermione closed her eyes, knowing how insane her answers would be, and how she wished it could have just been "oh, I just went for a walk."

'V was here.'

'What? Here, in my home? What did he want—wait, he isn't still here is he?' Neville asked hurriedly, turning around and looking about his living room with his cane held up like a club.

Hermione sighed, and rubbed her forehead. 'No, he's gone.'

Neville looked about for a second more just in case, then turned and sat down next to Hermione, Crookshanks moving out of the way beforehand. He placed a comforting hand on Hermione's back, and she shivered for a moment before giving another sigh and relaxing a little. Neville was there to help.

'What did he want?' Neville asked quietly.

'He said that I'm in danger here, and I have to leave by tomorrow.'

'Nonsense! They came and asked about you, and they believed what I said. Why would they come back?' Neville responded. Hermione could tell Neville didn't want her to leave. To see a friendly face after what he had been through, he wouldn't be up to seeing her go that quickly.

'I know Neville, but if they did find me—'

'They won't Hermione, I promise you' Neville said. Hermione placed her hand in his, and smiled at him warmly.

'I know Neville, I know. But maybe it's an idea to even leave for a few days, and then come back. Perhaps in a week or two, all of this will have died down, and I can come back without worry' she reasoned. Neville knew well enough that Hermione's reasoning was not something you could usually fight and win against.

'Well, alright, if you think it's best. I just don't trust this V fellow, there are too many questions, and I still think he's a Marker.' To this, Hermione let out a quiet, but hysterical chuckle.

'He's no Marker; that I know.'

'How are you so sure?'

Letting out a sigh, she looked right at Neville. 'Because he just blew up the old Ministry.'

'WHAT!' Neville yelled, Hermione shushing him instantly, and looking about as if worried they'd wake up the non-existent people sleeping nearby.

'He blew up the bloody Ministry! How do you know?' Neville asked, quietly now.

'He- . . . he took me with him.'

'And you went with him willingly?' Neville asked incredulously.

'Well Neville, I need to find out who this guy is!' Hermione answered tersely.

'I know, but going along with him as he blows up the Ministry isn't—'

'I didn't know he was going to do that!' Hermione interrupted heatedly. Both of them looked at each other for a moment, then realized the raised voices were not necessary, and tried to calm down. Neville moved a little closer, and took both of Hermione's hands in his.

'Did you find out more about him?' Neville asked calmly. Hermione looked off for a moment trying to remember what they spoke about, but with so much happening, it was hard to recall every topic of conversation.

'Just that I've helped him in the past before really. With what, I'm not sure, but he did say it was when we were both different people or something. He also said that the government knew about me, and that I had to leave. He knows that I've been to the Ministry before—more specifically that I've been in the telephone booth—and he can make his own spells' Hermione recalled.

Those facts did help narrow the ideas of who it could be, but not everyone. Almost everyone at Hogwarts during her time knew that she had been to the Ministry with Harry and the others. And Hermione did help out a lot of people while at Hogwarts. The fact that he could make his own spells did not mean much, considering so much time had passed.

'Some of that information helps probably' Neville figured, trying to stay positive about it all. 'But that doesn't mean you have to leave.'

'Neville' she started, getting up from the couch and pacing about in the dark room. The moonlight coming through the windows, along with the streetlamps, gave enough light to see around the room. 'So far he's been right about everything, and as much as I don't want to leave, maybe I should for a few days.'

'But what about your work? If you don't show up all of a sudden, they'll know something's wrong' Neville put forth. Hermione turned as she paced, and shook her head.

'No, they won't notice, or care really. If they know where I live, they know where I work, and calling in to say I'm sick or something wouldn't do any good.'

Neville was distraught about how the situation was looking, but he began to concede Hermione leaving London for a few days, or even a week.

'So where will you go? Liverpool to see you family again?' Neville asked, as he pat Crookshanks, who was lying over his left leg on the couch.

'No, not Liverpool. If they know where I live and work, they'll probably know where my family is. Maybe Birmingham or . . . hmm' she started to think, Neville wondering.

'What?'

'Well' Hermione said, her fingers on her chin. 'I know someone, in a really small town that might do well. Ever been to King's Lynn?' she asked.

'"King's Lynn"? Hmm . . . no, not really.'

'It's in The Fens, just south of The Wash. I know an old friend that lives there, quite secretively. I should be able to go there without worry for a few days.'

Neville thought this over for a moment, and agreed. Hermione honestly wanted Neville to be alright with it all. It would cause a lot of tension if she went without his agreement, and there would be a good chance he would go after her, which he was in no shape to be doing.

'Can Crookshanks stay here with you?' she asked as she sat back down next to Neville.

'It shouldn't be a problem I think. I think he likes it here' Neville proposed, giving Crookshanks another pat. The cat purred softly, and Hermione smiled at Neville.

--  


In the morning, Hermione gathered the small amount of belongings she had, and got ready to leave. Neville insisted she have breakfast first, and she obliged. Breakfast itself was not that grand, but Neville tried to make it important by cooking crepes. Well, at least an attempt at crepes.

'Honestly Neville, they're good!' she restated as she took another bite of her dish. In actuality, they did have a soft touch of asphalt in them, but once you muscled your way past it, they were alright. Crookshanks was smarter, and after one lick began hissing at the crepes, and instead settled for a nice lump of government-regulated tuna.

'Well, alright. I just want you to have a good last meal before you go' he admitted, coming over from the kitchen and sitting down at the table, a small amount of pain wiping across his face as he shifted his weight into the seat.

'I'm not going to be gone that long Neville. You make it sound like I'll never come back' Hermione said, Neville taking a bite of his creation, and grimacing as he chewed.

'Uch, these are terrible. Why didn't you tell me?' he demanded, a little playfully as he continued to taste the road in his mouth.

'What? I like them.'

'Then you must have the palette of an anteater' he asserted, taking the rest of his crepes and pushing them aside. He was trying to get up again, but Hermione kept him seated.

'I'll get you some toast, just stay here' she advised. He agreed, and slumped back down, giving his now discarded plate a frown.

'So are you going to tell me who you're going to see?' Neville asked, turning his head slightly towards the kitchen as Hermione put the bread in the toaster. Hermione walked over as the bread was being toasted, and whispered in his ear.

'Ginny.'

'GIN-' he started to shout, Hermione placing her hand over his mouth. 'Ginny!' he whispered in astonishment. She came close to his ear, and whispered more.

'Yes, Ginny. I haven't seen or talked to her in years. She wasn't at Hogwarts when it fell, because her Mum asked her to stay at her aunt's house in King's Lynn. Ginny wanted to fight, but respected her parents wishes.'

'Part of me wishes she was there with us, I missed her. I'm surprised she actually stayed away.'

'I know Neville. As for staying away, well, her parents wishes, and also not having her wand kept her there. She helped with a lot of the wounded when Mrs. Weasley escaped. They Apparated a lot of them to King's Lynn and helped heal them before going off to fight at Ministry. Ginny didn't go to the Ministry though, she was smart enough to know it wouldn't do any good.'

'So Ginny's alive' Neville restated in disbelief.

'And that's where I'm going, so there's no worries' Hermione said, turning around and getting Neville's toast.

'Why didn't you tell me before?' Neville questioned a little heatedly.

'I couldn't Neville, you know that. I haven't talked to her in years, I just hope she's still there' Hermione hoped.

'But of all the people that should have known-'

'I know Neville, I know. When I come back, we can both go and you can see her? I'm sorry I can't bring you earlier, but it would be hard for you to travel' Hermione explained consolingly. Neville looked to be on the verge of tears, but nodded in agreement.

'I'll just be happy to see Ginny again. I've dreamed about her so much.'

They finished breakfast at a leisurely pace, then Hermione got her things. She disliked leaving Neville in the middle of a situation she created, but this was the only way to get them away from him.

'How are you getting there?' Neville asked as he leaned in the hallway as Hermione packed her belongings in the front room.

'Well, I can't go the Muggle way. They'll have police looking everywhere for Mary Granger.'

'So you're going to Apparate?'

'I already did it once, I can probably do it again. I just have to make sure I end up close to King's Lynn, since I've never been there.' This did not make Neville any more relaxed with her departure, but came over and gave her a hug.

'Just keep safe, and come back soon. It's been so great to have you here' Neville murmured from Hermione's shoulder.

'It's been so wonderful Neville, I'll be back soon, I promise. And I'll tell her you say hi and that you miss her.'

Neville backed away with some tears in his eyes, and Hermione gave him a kiss. With all that he had been through, he did not want to lose the one person who understood almost everything about him. So few people did in the world he lived in.

'Now you be nice to Neville, alright Crookshanks?' she told her cat. The stubby-nosed creature purred and rubbed up against her pointed finger, and she smiled at him. He knew perfectly well that he was going to get more tuna in the coming days.

Hermione grabbed her pack, and her box with her wand and other wizarding items, and smiled at Neville one last time. He smiled shakily at her, and with a hard thought of the countryside, she gave a twist.

In the last instant she saw Neville, his expression changed as he looked towards the front door, and his smile dropped. She suddenly wished to return to find out what was going on, but she was already surrounded by darkness and that old tube-like feeling.

Meanwhile, back at Neville's home, a knock came at the door, and he hobbled over. Crookshanks trotted over to the staircase, and turned to face the door.

Neville opened the door, to find three men dressed in black suits standing on his front step.

'Yes? May I help you?' he asked kindly. The front man turned towards him and removed his hat; Neville's mouth dropping open, and Crookshanks hissing from the stairs.

'Hello Longbottom' sneered Draco Malfoy.

--  


Hermione landed in the middle of nowhere. The look on Neville's face continued to perplex and worry her, but she knew it was probably nothing. She disliked leaving Neville alone, but it was needed for both their protection.

But how was she to get to King's Lynn when she ended up in the countryside?

She found herself in the middle of a grass field, with cows and other farm animals grazing in the distance, one cow nearby lifting its head and chewing on the grass. She could see a lone road wind its way across the expanse, and she started off towards it, making sure to watch her step for the substance that made the area smell so wonderfully.

Reaching the road, she hadn't a clue which way to walk. Roads led to towns, but which was her town? The high inclined Sun did not help her in figuring East from West, so she took a guess, and headed to the right.

No cars came for a while, until finally an old red car that looked to be the misfit in a used-car lot came puttering up. It was tiny car, and the driver looked to have terribly skills behind the wheel, but it began to slow down as it approached Hermione from ahead.

Stopping on the other side of the road, Hermione instinctively looked both ways, and crossed the road to the car. An old man, at least in his sixties, was the driver. He had a rough grey beard, and pudgy cheeks that gave him one of those cute grandfather looks, just like her mother's dad, Grandfather Malory had. He always had the best cookies that Grandmother Malory made just for Hermione. She used to say since Hermione was her only grandchild, she had to spoil her as much as possible. Grandfather Malory didn't like to spoil, but always smiled at Hermione eating the cookies while he fixed his violin. He was always fixing violins.

'Hello there darling, what yeh doing all the way ou' here? Where you talkin' to the cows or somethin'?' he asked, giving her a strange look with his blue eyes.

'Um, no, not exactly. I'm trying to get to King's Lynn, could you help me?' she asked. The idea of getting help from a stranger at this time was not too accepted by Hermione, but she honestly had no idea where she was. She put a lot of judgment into how the old man would react. If he reacted too quickly, then he could be a Marker in disguise. If he reacted too slowly, he might suspect her and bring her to the police.

He looked her over for a moment, then up and down the road, and of all things-laughed. The tension in Hermione's neck was increasing, but with the laugh, she smiled. He had a bark of a laugh, but it was genuine.

'Well pretty lady' he started, 'if yer on yer way to King's Lynn, yer walkin' in the wrong direction. It's thata way' he informed, pointing in the direction that Hermione had not picked. So much for her guessing abilities.

'Oh, alright, thank you' Hermione responded, turning and starting to walk that way. The old man sat in the car for a second, then got out.

'Well hold on a tec! I'm on my way to Castle Rising, I can give yeh a lift to King's Lynn if you'd like' the old man offered. Hermione stopped, and turned to look at the man.

He was beefy, but not very tall—almost the same height as herself. He wore simple clothes, jeans and a collared shirt. His stance was very relaxed, and his voice sounded sincere.

'If it's not a proble-'

'Not at all young lady!' he interrupted, motioning her to sit in the car. She walked over and sat in the tiny car, and he walked to the driver's side. The interior had the aroma of old leather and a small whiff of tobacco, but it didn't bother Hermione. The windows were open, so once they started moving it would be alright.

The old man took his seat, and the car swayed in reply. His hefty weight was enough for the car, and as he turned it over, he smiled at Hermione.

'Archibald Weirman' he introduced himself.

'Her—I mean, Mary Granger' Hermione introduced herself, shaking his outstretched hand. He took hold of the wheel, and started the car off on the road.

'So, Miss Hermary Granger, what're yeh doin' all the way out here?' he asked, Hermione smiling.

'It's just Mary Granger actually-'

'Oh, -pologies.'

'Not a problem. I'm coming to visit a friend' she explained, looking out the window at the farmland and breathing in the air. It was so nice near the water, it gave a nice salty scent to the air.

'A friend yeh say?' the old man restated, Hermione getting nervous in the way he mentioned it. They were now driving along a bend in the road, and coming up to some hills.

'Well, perhaps I know'em. I have some family in King's Lynn.'

'Probably not, they live just outside the town' Hermione offered, hoping to squash the topic. Archibald nodded, and gave a glance towards Hermione.

'You look familiar' he said offhandedly. Hermione started to become nervous again.

'I do? I have one of those faces I've been told.' Archibald was shaking his head.

'No, no, I've seen you before. But where . . .' he pondered. Hermione was already getting her wand ready, incase she needed it.

'Oh, I remember now! You're the one on the news!' the old man spouted, Hermione pulling her wand out and pointing it at the man.

'Pull the car over, now!' Hermione demanded, Archibald waving his hand to try and calm her down.

'Tak'er easy little lady, I'm not the police' he insisted.

'Just pull the car over' Hermione again demanded.

'And what? You're going to walk the rest of the way? I don't mind drivin' yeh, just calm down, and put yer stick away' the man told Hermione. She kept her wand on him for a moment longer as he looked at her, then dropped it, and put it on her lap.

'There, that's better' Archibald sighed. 'I'm not lookin' for trouble, an' I don't mind drivin' yeh. Just don't be hurtin' me please.'

'I'm not a criminal' Hermione attested, Archibald giving her a look.

'Yeh don't look like one. Too pretty' he noticed, getting reminded of Gary from the carpark. Archibald gave a bit of a smirk, and it relaxed Hermione. She still could not trust this man, but his calm nature made her feel better.

'So why are they after yeh?'

Hermione sighed, and looked out at the countryside passing by. 'I don't know why' she lied.

'Well, yeh'll be safe in King's Lynn. 'Tis a small town, outta the way and such.'

A tree passing by, Hermione looked forward and saw a small hamlet ahead. The car pulled off onto a side road, and towards the town. It looked quaint, about a dozen or so buildings, none more than two stories tall. Coming into the main street, the odd person walked along the road, while others were working in the fields.

Archibald slowed the car, and it came to a gentle halt.

'So does your friend live in the town, or the outskirts?'

'Not too far from here, I can walk the rest of the way. Thanks Archibald for the ride' Hermione said to the man. He smiled through his beard, and Hermione got out of the car. He waved good-bye, and slowly putted along in the car, continuing down the road, over a hill and gone.

Hermione looked around, giving another sigh, and caught a familiar building. It was on the corner of a junction, and had a black roof. She remembered eating at that inn one night with Ginny, and walking back to her place afterwards.

She started down the dirt path, and after several minutes of walking and smelling the wonderful sea breeze, she came around a long bend, and from behind the trees came a cozy looking cottage. With a slanted thatch roof, and old brick walls, she walked up, and knocked on the old wooden door.

After a few moments of shuffling inside, and a few muffled voices, the door opened slowly, and the side of a red-headed face peaked around the side.

'May I help you?'

'I'm . . . here to see Ginny Weasley.'

'And you are?' the person asked, the door opened a little more to see a light brown eye looking at Hermione.

'I'm Hermione. Hermione Grang-'

The door swung open and the red haired woman threw herself at Hermione mid-introduction. Hermione staggered backwards with the sudden jolt, but hearing the sniffs from Ginny's crying, she smiled, and hugged her friend tightly. Her long red hair was still as fiery as ever, and Hermione stroked it gently, smiling as she remembered the times she saw it swaying down the halls of Hogwarts.

'Hermione' Ginny sniffled, giving one more warm squeeze before backing away. 'Oh Hermione, I've missed you so.'

'I've missed you too Ginny' Hermione responded with a smirk and a wipe of a tear, Ginny wiping her face also.

'Come in, come in' Ginny insisted, opening the door and ushering her in. Hermione entered the tiny home, and looked about.

It was so much like the Burrow, it was easy to tell a Weasley lived here. Knick-knacks were strune all over the mantle over the hearth, and the kitchen had flowers in a vase, with water boiling on the stove while pictures—Muggle pictures—were plastered all over the white fridge. Old red-laced rugs were covering the floor in the sitting room, while in the kitchen and adjacent dining room wood floors creaked under her steps.

Ginny closed the door, and turned back towards Hermione, where they again shared a hug. Hermione could not believe that she had come all the way up there to see Ginny. It had been so long, it wasn't surprising she didn't recognize her right away.

'Oh Hermione, please come and sit. Tell me where you've been, what you're doing' Ginny persisted, leading Hermione over into the dining room and pulling out one of the four wooden chairs for her. She continued on into the kitchen to get some tea going as Hermione started her story.

Hermione went ahead and told her of her escape from Hogwarts with Seamus and the others, and how she managed to get back to London and keep low. She mentioned where she worked, and her trip to Liverpool, and then came to the topic of Neville.

'While I was in Liverpool, I ran into someone from Hogwarts.'

'You mean a student? Someone we knew?' Ginny asked as she was taking the tea pot over to the table, very carefully.

'Yes. It- . . . it was Neville.'

A sudden and strict gasp and the smash of pottery filled the room as Ginny dropped the tea pot in shock. The tea splashed all over the floor, and the pot broke into thousands of pieces as Ginny held her mouth in astonishment.

'N-N-Neville . . . alive?' Ginny stuttered. Hermione stood up quickly, and helped Ginny to sit down in one of the chairs.

'Yes, he lives in London now. I just visited him.'

Ginny was still in utter shock over the information, and in her staring at the floor, noticed the tea pot.

'Oh . . . there's a mess. I'll- . . . I'll clean it' she spoke incoherently.

'Don't worry, I'll get it' Hermione insisted, taking her wand and wiping over the mess, the tea pot coming back together and the tea disappearing.

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING!' Ginny screamed, Hermione jumping back and falling down onto the floor—hitting the tea pot over and it breaking again.

'What? What's wrong? I just-'

'You did- . . . THAT!' Ginny ranted, her state of mind totally in rage.

Hermione looked at where Ginny was pointing, and it was then she realized she used magic. Hermione did not even notice she did it, she just went and cleaned up the tea pot. She was so startled with herself, she dropped her wand, and began backing up from it as if it was some dangerous insect.

'Why do you have that here?' Ginny questioned, standing up and looking at her while she picked up the tea pot pieces.

'I- . . . I had to bring it with me. Markers are after me.'

'Markers?' Ginny stated worriedly.

'Yes, I had to leave London, and I thought it would be alright to come here since it is out of the way' Hermione said, trying to appeal to Ginny. She could see how worried she was at the mention of the Markers, and Hermione suddenly using magic did not make things well.

Ginny looked at Hermione on the floor, giving a sigh, and offering her hand to help her up. Hermione stood, and Ginny continued into the kitchen, where she took the broken tea pot, and threw the shards into the rubbish bin.

'I'm sorry Hermione, I've just been living in fear for so long, and hearing about Neville and you showing up all of a sudden-'

'I know, I'm sorry to put all this on you at once, but thank you Ginny. And I'm sorry about the tea pot, I don't even know why I did it.'

'It's alright Hermione, sometimes I even find myself swishing my hand thinking there's still a . . . a wand there.'

The two friends talked about what they had been up to, and what was going on with people they knew. Ginny was very interested in hearing about Neville, as they were getting serious when Hogwarts was attacked, and the thoughts of Neville made Hermione again worry about him.

'So is there a man in your life now Hermione?' Ginny asked innocently.

'No, I couldn't, even if I wanted to' Hermione answered straightforwardly. Loosing the two men she cared about the most just made it impossible for her to think of seeing another man.

'Did you hear about the Old Ministry?' Ginny asked, Hermione's fingers beginning to tingle with fear.

'No, what happened?'

'It was on the wireless that it was blown up for reconstruction' Ginny told.

'Reconstruction?' Hermione questioned, trying not to look too guilty of knowing the truth, that a masked man who had come to her in the middle of the night actually destroyed the Old Ministry right in front of her.

'I know, doesn't make sense. If you're using . . . you know, you wouldn't need to blow the whole thing up to reconstruct it.' Hermione remained quiet about the truth of it, and simply nodded thoughtfully.

The two of them talked some more in the sitting room, until a knock came at the door, and both of them became nervous. Ginny mentioned she received few visitors, so the idea of two in one day made Hermione think the worse.

Ginny got up, and walked slowly across the room towards the door, while Hermione went over and instinctively reached for her wand. Could someone have followed her to Ginny's?

The door was opened slightly, and Ginny was conversing with whoever was outside. She smiled back at Hermione, and opened the door to let the person inside.

'Hello there Hermione! Wonderful seein' you got to yer friends house' the old man spoke happily.

'Archibald? Um, my name is Mary, not whatever you said' Hermione said, Ginny looking at the old man funnily.

'Archibald? What kind of name is that?'

'What, remember Uncle Archie? He was a crazy old guy, and I thought I looked like him' Archibald explained, Hermione becoming exceedingly confused.

'What's going on?' she asked, looking from Archibald to Ginny.

'Oh, you'll be findin' out in a few minutes there lassy' Archibald said, giving Hermione a wink while Ginny rolled her eyes.

'Stop talking like that, and go upstairs and get changed.' Archibald bowed to the two ladies, and went upstairs with surprising speed.

'Git' Ginny commented.

'Ginny, how do you know him?' Hermione asked quickly, looking out the window to see the tiny red car sitting in front of the house.

'Why did you say your name is Mary? Did you change it? You shouldn't, Hermione is nice.'

'Ginny, he gave me a ride here, who is he?'

'He's someone who knows you're not "Mary"' a familiar voice called from the staircase. Hermione turned, and her jaw dropped as she began to laugh.

'Fred!' Hermione yelled, running up and giving the tall red head a monster hug.

'Nice to see you too there Hermione' Fred responded. Hermione hugged him for a moment longer, before stepping back and giving him a smack across the shoulder.

'Why didn't you tell me who you were when you picked me up, and why were you changed? Did you use Polyjuice Potion?'

'Well, to be honest, I wasn't sure you were you. That is, until you took your wand out. Then I knew easily. As to the potion, when I travel out of the town, it's sometimes needed to change up how I look. The potion is really the only thing we make that is . . . you know.' Ginny noticed one things Fred said however, and was not happy.

'You took your wand out in public!' Ginny yelled, Fred and Hermione shushing her voice, worried about eavesdroppers that did not exist.

'It wasn't in public, we were in the car. Just the way he was talking to me, it made me nervous.'

'Wonderful Fred, make a woman we haven't seen in years feel nervous.' George was trying to look innocent.

'I didn't do anything! I was nice, I brought her here' Fred attested.

'Don't worry Gin, he was alright. It's just so nice to see you, last time I saw you-'

'I know, bad with the burns, and my arm. It's still sorta messed, but I'm alright.'

Now three, they all sat down and talked about their lives. Fred was so happy to hear Neville was alive, and expressed interest in having him up to King's Lynn sometime to catch up.

Fred, since the time of the fall, had learned how to do some Muggle farming, and worked on a nearby farm. They were long hours, and hard work, but it paid well, and kept him low on the radar. He made trips to Peterborough and Cambridge every once in a while to get news on things, and to see one or two people he knew.

Ginny in the meantime worked at the restaurant at the corner. One of the owners was a wizard, and understood Ginny's need to keep low. He helped out with finding their house, called Rose Abbey, and getting settled in without using magic. They both attested to having their wands put away in safe places, but that they had not even looked at them in years.

Turning on her mother's old Wizard's Wireless Network, Ginny sat back down and listened quietly. She kept a few items of her mothers', the wireless being one, having many memories of sitting around the Burrow and listening as her mother braided her hair.

By now the Sun was beginning to set, and Ginny was about to get supper ready for the three of them. The two Weasley's had no troubles having Hermione stay there for a few days.

'Coming up next, the ecstatic comedy styling of Bulbus the Bumble, but first this word' came from the wireless in a high pitched woman's voice.

'Bulbus isn't that bad I think, he has his moments' Fred commented.

'Could you turn that off please Fred? And put on that Muggle television so we can hear the news' Ginny asked as she started getting things ready. Hermione went over and began to help her, but Ginny insisted on doing it herself. Hermione instead settled for making the table ready.

Turning the wireless off, and sadly missing Bulbus, Fred turned on the Muggle television, and turned the dial to channel six, which showed a commercial for a furniture store.

'You watch the news?' Hermione asked Ginny.

'Mostly to see what the government is doing, and if anyone we know has been found.'

'Tonight on News Six' a female anchor woman started, 'a fire rips through the non-quarantined zone outside Exeter, killing dozens, while-'

'Bloody terrible news they have on this Muggle television' Ginny commented as the news reports continued.

'-killing four, while the driver escaped. Police desc—shhhhhhhh' the anchor woman said, being cut off and the screen turning blank.

'What's going on?' Ginny asked.

'Who knows with these infernal Muggle machines' Fred responded, getting up and smashing the television.

'That won't help you know' Hermione insisted.

'Oh, it will don't-ah, here we go. What in the-?' Fred wondered, looking at the screen.

'Good evening England' a deep, calm voice sounded. The words came to Hermione's ears, and her face grew cold as she turned towards the television.

'Who is that?' Ginny asked, glancing without much worry.

'V' Hermione whispered.

'Who?' Ginny asked again, Hermione not hearing her as she walked out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, slowly sitting down as she watched the ivory mask of Guy Fawkes on the screen.

'Allow me to first I apologize for taking time from your busy lives, and interrupting the tranquility and safety of the everyday and familiar' V continued on the screen in his deep voice.

'Who is this guy?' Fred asked, Hermione shushing him quickly, and nudging him out of the way.

'I like many of you enjoy the comforts of the everyday. But unlike many other days of commemoration that pass by, those associated usually with the triumph of a glorified battle or the death of a noble hero, and marked by a quaint holiday—the spirit of this day, like many of those before, has been lost to time and history and is no longer remembered as it should.

'So it is on this November the fifth, a day lost to time and the minds of the people, that I thought we could take pause from our routine of the everyday to sit to have a nice chat.

'What is this guy-' Ginny started.

'Shhh!' both Fred and Hermione spoke, their eyes both glued to the screen, Ginny soon following suit.

'There are some of course, who do not wish this little conversation to happen. Believe me when I say there are orders being shouted and men with guns and other more terrible items that the world would dare not know of will soon be here.

'Why? Because while the force of law has been used to squash conversation, words have maintained their power to those who will listen; words are the means to understanding and the illumination of truth to us all. And that truth is—there is something is terribly wrong with this country.'

At this point, Fred, Hermione, and Ginny all looked at each other.

'He's a wizard' George stated, everyone looking back at the screen.

'Now mired in cruelty and oppression, where once you had the freedom and power to speak and do as you please, you are now bound by sensors, rules, and supervision compelling your conformity and demanding your submission. Many of you whom years before lived openly and in harmony with the world now live in fear and hide yourselves away from the world.

'Who brought this upon us? How did it happen? Believe me pour Britons, there are those more accountable than others, and they will be held to justice. But again, to bring forth the truth, if you seek the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.'

'I know why you did it, you were all afraid. With war raging and thousands dying, disease running rampant, and strange happenings occurring all over the world, who wouldn't be afraid of the outside world? People gave up on hope, and ran into the dark places of their minds and of the world in hopes of disappearing from the terror that struck our nation.

'Those who remained, corrupted by the violence and destruction, and coerced by fear and panic, let go their common sense and looked to the now Lord Malfoy, and the Dark Lord of Britain. Lord Malfoy promised you peace and stability, asking only for your silent obedience and consent in return.

'Last night I sought to end that silence.

'Last night, _I_ destroyed the Old Ministry to remind you, and this country what has faded in our minds, and has been forgotten into history and the shadows.

'It was him! I knew it wasn't a reconstruction!' Ginny spouted, Fred and Hermione shushing her.

'More than four hundred years ago, one man; one great citizen sought to ingrain the fifth of November in our hearts and minds forever. He wanted to remind us and make us remember that freedom, truth, and justice are superior to just mere words, but are perspectives to see the world through.

'If you are blinded by the lies pulled over your eyes, and the crimes of this government are unnoticed by you, then there are no reasons for you to denote this date, and I suggest you continue in your everyday routine.

'But if you have seen all that I have seen, felt as I have felt, and seek what I also seek, then I ask all of you to come and stand beside me, one year from now, outside the gates of Parliament. United together, with our conviction and freedom, we shall give them a fifth of November that history, and they, will never, ever forget!'

The screen suddenly turned black, embossed with the letter V, and all three inside the small house looked at each other in awe.

They knew that this was the beginning of something big.

**A/N - So, there you go, a long chapter 4! I am sorry for the long wait, but as with some of my other stories, updates have been lessened by writer's block and various other things. But, I'm getting back into it, and this is one of the chapters up:) I am sorry the speech by V on TV resembles the one from the movie a great deal, but I honestly love the one in the movie, and could not think of how to improve it or change it much.**

But as you can see, this story is headed in a different direction when compared to the movie.

Please of course review and let me know what your thoughts are towards my story, in such things perhaps as where it is headed, the plot and how it's moving along, the characters, possible ideas for improvement, etc.

Thanks folks!

**_Spell/Name/Verse Meanings:_**  
**Rose Abbey** - I named it this, as King's Lynn (which is an actual place in England), is near Leicester, where the War of the Roses was ended.  
**Archibald Weirman** - Not so much his name (which was made off the top of my head), his character is meant to incorporate many aspects of people that Hermione relates to, including her grandfather with his appearance, Hagrid with the way he speaks (though she doesn't acknowledge this), Gary the security guard from her work with the comment of her being "too pretty" to be a criminal, and of course Fred actually being him. 


End file.
